Dear people of colour in South Africa

9:27 am
Wendy van Eyck
0
Comments

Dear people of colour in South Africa

I am sorry. I should have tried harder.
For years I have hidden behind, “I was too young to be part of apartheid. I
shouldn’t have to pay for the sins of others. I didn’t do anything wrong. How
could I? I was 9 years old when apartheid ended.”

For years, I have failed to recognise how I
have received privileges just for being white in this country and that my advantage
came at your disadvantage.

I believed I lived in a country where
colour didn’t matter. But I failed you, my fellow citizens of colour, I failed
you because I didn’t see I only had the luxury of believing that lie because I was white.

Of course, colour matters.

Every single day something happens to
remind you how colour matters. I apologise for allowing my naïvety to blind me to the racism you experience every single
day.

I am sorry for all the times I haven’t
called my white friends and family on racism. {Tweet This!}

Just this week I let a racist
comment go. We were talking about a movie called “He even has
your eyes” about a black couple who adopt a white baby. I thought it was
beautiful. I loved that it challenged all my preconceived ideas about race. My
friend who is white said, “That would be so shocking! Imagine a white baby in
the loxion.”

I didn’t understand what she said so I
replied, “What? Where?”

“In the location”.

I shook my head barely believing what I
had heard and quickly paid the bill. As I drove home, I kicked myself for not
calling her on it. Black people do not only live in locations. And people raise
children in locations every day, and despite often lacking access to quality
education many go on to become the kind of people we all should be proud to
call a son or daughter.

I am sorry that I failed you in that conversation and
that I perpetuated a system that holds down anyone who is not white. I am sorry
this is not the only time I have failed to speak up when white people put
people of colour down.

I am 34 years old and I have never learnt to speak an African language. I have expected every person of colour to adapt to my culture, the white culture that I benefit from.

I am sorry that I thought I belonged in a "different" group of white people, that I was somehow special and immune from oppressing
you.

I am sorry I thought it was okay to say
“some” white people when talking about white supremacists and I admit when
#BlackLivesMatter started I fought for #AllLivesMatter.

I. Am. Sorry.

I am sorry that when apartheid ended I did
not change my actions. I am sorry that I haven’t loved you like Jesus, that I haven’t
stood up for your rights like I would stand up for my child.

I realise now, and I hope it is not too
late, that our country’s failure to transform is not your problem. It is a
white one. White people have apologised for apartheid but never really
repented. We have not done enough to right the wrongs of the past. We have not
been angry enough about the circumstances we put you in because we are too
scared that speaking up for you might mean losing everything for us.

I will never know what it is like to go
through life without privilege. I can’t pretend to own or understand your
experience. I want to though. I want to listen, to learn, to hear how my privilege
has hurt you, is hurting you.

And I want to learn to act.

I do not want to put the burden of
correcting the behaviour of white people on your shoulders anymore. You should
not have to call us on our racism anymore.

I promise you I will be brave your ally in the face of racism.

(Brave? Really Wendy? Brave is Ernest Cole a black South African photographing apartheid and exposing it. Brave is Nelson Mandela standing in a courtroom and
saying he is willing to die for his beliefs. It is not brave to be a good human, to do the right thing. I don’t need to be brave, I just need to be an ally.)

I will call other white people on their racism.
I will speak up for you when I am in a room. I know it is not enough. It will
never be enough.

Thank you for being patient with us. Thank
you for giving white people more than twenty years since apartheid to realise how we have
failed once again. We do not deserve your kindness.

A recovering white racist

P.S. To the white people reading this: I
have always wondered who I would have been if I had lived through apartheid.
And I’m realising that this is our chance to be the people we hoped we would
be. I am scared. I am not sure how to fix this but I know I want to do
something. I see white supremacy rising in America and from all I read about it I'm realizing that if they win in America all white people win and I don't want to live in a world where I am an advantaged at the cost of people of colour. Here are a few resources that have gotten me
thinking and acting on this issue. I hope you'll find them helpful too.

Novel:Small
Great Things – Jodi Picoult(Affiliate link) Set in America. Picoult
tackles racism head on from the viewpoint of how white people have benefited
from slavery (in a South African context apartheid) and looks at what a white
persons response should be to current racial tensions. I can’t recommend this
book enough. She has a great article about how to be an ALLY on her website which you can click here to read.

Non-Fiction:Born
a crime - Trevor Noah(Affiliate link) This book isn’t funny. If anything
it’s uncomfortable to read. It will challenge you on so many levels about race.

Movie: He even has
your eyes. French with English subtitles. You can find this on Netflix. Watch the trailer here.
As a white person, what is your first reaction to the idea of black people
raising a white child? Yup. This film will challenge all those preconceived
ideas and open the door for real conversations about race.

Search This Blog

Welcome

Meet Me

I'm learning to love well, run well and read well. I’m married to Xylon - a man who talks non-stop about cycling - and makes me laugh. I write for anyone who has ever held a loved one’s hand through illness, or believed in God despite hard circumstances or ever left on a spontaneous 2-week holiday through a foreign land with just a backpack.